


A Winter Vacation

by Natashasolten



Series: Pennsylvania Series [18]
Category: Wiseguy
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Violence, Pennsylvania series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natashasolten/pseuds/Natashasolten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonny thinks he is being followed and handles the situation Sonny-style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Winter Vacation

Fresh snow had again frosted the roof of their house. The street gleamed and fog rose from its snow-banked edges. The windows had misted slightly from the bright fire burning steadily in the hearth. But Sonny could still see out. It was something he enjoyed…staring outside at the peaceful little neighborhood, at the white crusted landscape, at the driveway and the yard and the trees that belonged to him and Vinnie now.

To Sonny, after everything, this was a little piece of Heaven. He never thought he’d fall in love with such a mundane, ordinary existence. But in reality, everywhere he looked he saw beauty, smelled it in the walls of the house, heard it in the calm silence of small town life punctuated only occasionally by a far distant train whistle, or the occasional sound of a car on the street.

He felt insulated, safe. That was a good thing right now…anything to keep paranoia at bay. To lessen the onset of nightmares and temporary blackouts. He’d been feeling good lately. Real good. And he couldn’t remember the last time Vinnie had woken him up to disorientation, confusion, shaking.

Things were good. They’d sold their first car. They were planning a trip to Hawaii in May to celebrate the end of Sonny’s parole. And they were still as hot for each other as that first night back in Atlantic City when Vinnie had whispered in a half-fearful rush, “This isn’t casual for me.”

Yeah, Sonny was feeling happy, more so than he could ever remember feeling.

He stared out at the wintry yard, a view that looked as if it could’ve been caught in a dream, held in a globe, sold on a card, and smiled.

Just then, a dark car turned and drove down the road. Its windows were blackened. It drove very slowly and nearly stopped in front of their house. Sonny’s smile went lax. He stepped behind the curtain just watching. Within a few seconds, the car moved on and turned off down the street.

His insides churned to ice. He did not recognize the car. It could be nothing. But instinct flared. If they were being watched, it changed everything. Everything.

His lips pressed tight. He lifted his chin. Squinted his eyes. ‘Think, Sonny!’ his internal voice commanded. Theresa knew where they lived. But she had promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. And he believed her. She still loved Sonny. No, Theresa was not a threat.

Still, she had found them through a private detective. That meant that anyone who had the will and the money could find them if they wanted to. But there were really no enemies left out there. Patrice was gone. Mahoney wouldn’t care about him anymore as long as Sonny stayed away. And the old guys? They were retired, harmless, had families of their own to worry about.

Just then Vinnie came into the room. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Nothing,” Sonny quickly replied.

“Nothing?”

“Just the yard. The snow.” Sonny took a slow breath.

Vinnie came up beside him. He was wearing a ribbed, off-white sweater and dark jeans. Although Vinnie’s hair was, in reality, a rich, dark brown, today it looked black and depthless. Vinnie really was something to look at.

“I’m glad you like it here,” Vinnie said.

“Yeah.”

Vinnie followed his gaze. “It is kinda pretty.”

“Yeah, but I’m done now.” He reached up and closed the curtain.

Vinnie watched him. Sonny grabbed his arm. “C’mon. Let’s watch TV or something.” He led Vinnie to the couch.

Vinnie followed.

He didn’t want to tell Vinnie anything yet. He didn’t want Vinnie to think he was returning to old paranoid habits, old nightmares. In truth, he was getting better. And Vinnie seemed so much more relaxed these days.

They sat and Sonny grabbed the remote, turning on the TV. But he barely saw it. Trying to calm himself, he turned toward Vinnie for distraction. Vinnie turned at the same time, looking at him. Sonny reached up to palm Vinnie’s cheek, leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Vinnie grinned. “What was that for?”

Quietly, Sonny replied, “Everywhere I look today there’s a beautiful view.”

Vinnie just shook his head at him and started laughing.

*

Before going to bed Sonny checked the locks on the front and back doors at least three times. He made sure Vinnie had gone upstairs first so Vinnie wouldn’t see him going back and forth, back and forth. He looked out the living room window. All was silent, serene. He looked out the kitchen window. Just more snow and quiet. He checked to make sure the door to the garage was locked. It was. He checked the downstairs bathroom window. Locked, shut tight.

Once upstairs he stood in his robe and stared out the bedroom window. It faced the street. He watched…nothing. Not even one car passed by the whole time he looked.

Vinnie came in from the bathroom. Sonny let the curtain drop and took a quick step back.

“Can’t get enough of the season?”

Sonny shrugged. “I like snow.”

“I know. But you hate the cold.”

“Not really.”

“You bitch about it enough.”

Feeling suddenly defensive, Sonny turned away. “I do not.”

“Then how come I’m always the one doing the shoveling?”

“Not true. I help.”

“When?”

Sonny sighed heavily, didn’t answer. He went to his nightstand and turned on the lamp as Vinnie turned off the overhead. Then he took off his robe and sat down on the edge of the bed in his shorts and t-shirt.

“For that matter,” Vinnie added from behind, “I’m the only one who clears the gutters, too.”

Sonny closed his eyes.

“And when we had that leak I went up on the roof by myself in the cold.”

Trying not to be annoyed, Sonny pretended to ignore him.

“And I wrapped all the outdoor faucets.”

Sonny threw back the bedcovers hard, got into the bed.

“Hmmm,” Vinnie hummed. “Seems like I do everything around here.”

Before he could stop himself, Sonny snarled. “Get off my case, will ya?” He yanked the covers up and turned onto his side away from Vinnie.

He felt the bed move as Vinnie got in. Softly, Vinnie said, “Sonny, I was just joking with you…”

He did realize that Vinnie’s tone the whole time had been gentle, even amused. But he still said, “Didn’t sound like you were joking.”

“Well,” Vinnie said softly, “I was.”

Sonny took a breath, held it, reached out and turned off his lamp. He felt Vinnie pull the covers up on his side.

In the darkness, Vinnie’s voice. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he said quickly. He realized his heart had been pounding. It slowed now. And he felt an instant surge of protection toward Vinnie that almost hurt but he didn’t move.

“Then what’s wrong, Sonny?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Okay….”

Sonny heard the sarcastic undertone in that one word. “Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated.

“Okay,” Vinnie said again, adding perhaps a little more conviction to his answer this time.

Nothing more was said. They both lay there, still and quiet. Not moving. After awhile he heard Vinnie sigh, then turn onto his side. Sonny lay motionless for another few minutes, then turned onto his side facing Vinnie. He couldn’t see him in the darkness, but he could feel the wonderful heat of that tall, big body. Slowly, he moved until his knee touched Vinnie’s thigh, and his knuckles brushed Vinnie’s stomach. Vinnie flopped his arm over Sonny’s waist and curled more toward him.

It was a habit of theirs to have sex almost every single night. But tonight they both just fell asleep that way, saying nothing, neither one making any move.

Before he fell into real, heavy sleep, disappointment fluttered through Sonny’s body. He blamed himself entirely. And vowed he’d make it up to Vinnie tomorrow.

*

At breakfast the next morning, Sonny watched Vinnie casually peruse the paper just like old times back in Atlantic City when Vinnie used to sit on the leather couch in Sonny’s office and catch up on the news. Back then things were dangerous, unpredictable. Sonny had so many projects on his plate that he was always under guard. He had good men. Trusted men. Vinnie had been the most trusted of all.

Ironically, even with Vinnie’s betrayal, Sonny realized Vinnie had actually protected him all the time. Vinnie made sure Sonny was backed up, dealt the winning hand. Even if Sonny’s projects failed, they never blew up in his face. Vinnie made sure. He had Sonny’s back covered so that crimes were tied to everyone but him. He was manipulating the outcome of everything to see Sonny safely through to the end. What had Vinnie been thinking? That Sonny would escape everything? That Vinnie’s cover would never be blown? That they’d remain friends and lovers on into the future and whatever it held? And what…with Vinnie in constant danger, still secretly working for the Feds?

Sonny said as casually as possible, without looking up from his meal, “If I hadn’t whacked Patrice, would you have ever told me you were a Fed?”

Vinnie folded the paper down, looked over it. “Wha…?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t…”

“Let me make it perfectly clear,” Sonny said, still feeling utterly calm even as he thought about that black car with the blacked out windows from the previous afternoon. “Were you going to stay with me? Was your job going to just…continue?” Now he met his eyes.

Vinnie blinked but otherwise showed no expression. “My goal was the keep you from prison.”

Sonny raised his eyebrows. “You believed in yourself, in what you were doing. That wasn’t your only goal and probably not any goal at all until, maybe later…a lot later.”

Now Vinnie’s look hardened almost imperceptibly. But Sonny could read him so well. Vinnie was caught. So it didn’t surprise him when Vinnie said, voice slightly caustic, “And be your best man, I guess. That was a goal.”

Sonny gave him his most innocent stare. “Don’t be pissed. We discussed Theresa.”

Vinnie breathed steadily through his nose, quiet…too quiet. “You discussed Theresa,” he finally replied.

“I told you why.”

“Yeah,” Vinnie agreed flatly. “You told me why.”

“I was upfront.”

“Yeah. But…”

“But what?”

“But you told me what you were going to do. The marriage of convenience. You never asked me what I felt, though.”

“I’m a businessman, Vinnie. I made a business decision. You understood.”

Now Vinnie got a strange look and shook his head. “How’d we get into this conversation?”

“I was just wondering…,” Sonny said. In his mind he saw that car again, saw it almost stop in front of their house. “If you were ever going to tell me.”

Vinnie folded the paper back up so Sonny couldn’t see him anymore. After a few seconds he said, “I was afraid you’d hit me…or something.”

“Afraid? You’ve proven you can take a punch. You weren’t afraid. Maybe afraid you’d lose your job….”

“I hate it when you’re pissed at me,” Vinnie said suddenly, still behind his paper. “What’d I do this time?”

“I’m not pissed at you.”

The paper came down again. Vinnie almost glared. “Okay. I’ll give. In the end, I wanted to tell you, Sonny. But I thought I’d lose everything, most especially what we had. I was selfish. I figured I’d hang onto it for as long as I could. Because every day was that special. Okay? And then you were gonna get married and then, well, I don’t know. Shit happens. People grow apart. That answer your question?”

Sonny heard the sentiment in Vinnie’s voice and inwardly smiled. But he kept his poker face. “So you were gonna tell me? Like make a picnic out of it or something?”

Vinnie shook his head. “No. Not a picnic.” He chewed his lower lip, then said, “Maybe I was gonna leave a note on the pillow of your marriage bed. You know, something like that.” He set the paper down, pushed his chair back and took his plate to the sink.

“You wouldn’t have,” Sonny challenged.

Vinnie turned from the sink looking overly contemplative now. “No.” Voice soft. “I wouldn’t have.”

“When, then?”

Vinnie walked over to the table. He leaned his palms on it, coming face to face with Sonny. “I think maybe I would’ve waited for a time to do it when I felt safest. You know. When you were incapacitated or something?”

Sonny frowned a question at him.

Now Vinnie smiled. “You know, like me holding you down real tight, pushing inside you, making you about to come, all your senses practically obliterated…yeah, that’s when I would’ve sprung it on you. Right then.”

Sonny gave him a cold smile in return. “Right then, huh?”

Vinnie nodded.

Again, Sonny saw the car going down their street, slow…too slow. He thought about Vinnie being a cop, how much more dangerous it actually was for Vinnie’s cover to be publicly blown than for Sonny himself to privately check out, retire from the Mob. Abruptly, he said, “Babe, let’s go away somewhere for awhile. We could check out my house in the Catskills. I know you’re curious about it.”

Confused, Vinnie said, “What in the hell are you talking about? What does that have to do with what we were talking about?”

“I just want to go away from here right now. I want to take you somewhere fun. We could ski, we could…”

“You can’t leave the state yet,” he interrupted.

“I can get permission to go to my house. A security check, that sort of thing.”

Vinnie looked at him with a combination of fondness and utter disbelief. “Besides, I thought you were mad at me.”

“I told you I never was.”

“But the whole cop question….”

“I was just curious, just thinking. No harm in that, right?”

“I don’t know, Sonny. You and thinking. When did no harm ever come from that?”

Sonny laughed. He owed Vinnie for last night. All the awkwardness between them; it was all his fault. He needed Vinnie to be happy. But above all, to be safe. “Is that a ‘yes’, then?”

Vinnie shrugged.

“I’ll call my parole officer and get permission.”

Vinnie started to turn away.

Sonny said, “Hey.” Vinnie turned back. He reached out, touching Vinnie’s cheek very lightly with the back of his hand. “No matter what, you and me…we were never gonna grow apart.”

Vinnie gave him a sheepish smile.

*

Because of Sonny’s parole, no weapons were allowed in the house. Even with his PTSD, Sonny hadn’t thought about having a weapon to make himself feel safer. Now he did.

Vinnie’s Federal revolver had been turned in when he quit. But Vinnie also had his own personal gun, as most agents of the law did. When Sonny had come to live with him, Vinnie had stored it in a safe deposit box. Neither of them had given it a second thought. But now Sonny was thinking…and thinking, trying to figure out a way to get to it.

First, there was no way he could get into Vinnie’s safe deposit box without Vinnie there. It was Vinnie’s box. Sonny had his own box now, though, at the same bank. That box contained the ill-gotten Zhoratso brother’s money. When Sonny got the box, he had insisted on putting Vinnie’s name on the paperwork as well…just in case. But Vinnie’s box remained in Vinnie’s name alone.

Well, he had one other option for getting the gun. He could confess the whole matter to Vinnie. But he really needed more than a strange car passing by in the neighborhood to make his case. The damn PTSD just did not make him a reliable observer anymore.

But with Sonny, it had always been ‘better safe than sorry.’ He trusted his instincts. It was how he’d risen to the top in the first place. If he was wrong about the car, about his inner feeling of being watched, then great. Fantastic. But if he was right, he damn well wanted to be prepared. If anyone ever tried to hurt Vinnie…God help them.

*

On the way to Sonny’s house they hit fairly good weather. There was snow almost everywhere, but the roads were clear. The drive took eight hours.

Vinnie drove. He had his gun in the glove compartment. It was all legal. He had a concealed weapon permit and the car was his, not Sonny’s, so Sonny could not be accused of “carrying” it. Sonny had asked Vinnie to retrieve it and bring it along when they went to the bank to get some money out.

Vinnie had, at first, casually laughed. “I don’t need it anymore, you know.”

Sonny had shrugged, trying not to look too serious. He widened his eyes and said softly, “I’d feel safer. And I haven’t been to that house in so long…”

Vinnie stared at him with that sweet quizzical look he sometimes had, then said simply, “All right.”

And the problem was solved.

But the bigger problem still remained. Sonny could not erase the feeling of being watched. Or of Vinnie being watched. All the way on the long drive he kept his eyes open. He paid attention to every car on the road, and every car at every stop they made.

At one point, during a conversation about some of their better past times, Sonny asked, “Do you ever think the OCB might still have an interest in us?”

Vinnie replied, “Not at all. I think they were glad to be rid of me.”

“And me?” Sonny asked.

Vinnie frowned, turned his eyes from the road to look at him for a second. His mouth curved into a funny shape. Softly, “They took everything you had, Sonny. There’s nothing left for them.”

Sonny crossed his arms and looked out the side window. Secretly, he was glad of that answer, though. It narrowed the possibilities of who to look out for. Still, he wasn’t quite done with this conversation.

“Does McPike ever hear any talk about us?”

Vinnie shook his head slowly.

“Nothing? No one talks…or wonders?”

“Nope. If they do…um…gossip, they wouldn’t talk to him. He was very vocal about defending me when things were rough. You know Frank.” He chuckled. “One glare from him and you shut up. You just don’t cross him.”

‘He can try me,’ Sonny thought. But in truth, he had to agree. Frank had a lot of pull, no matter what. He always got his way.

“Why’re you asking me this stuff?”

Sonny tapped his toe against the floor of the car. “Just wondering…trying to get a bigger picture. That’s all.”

Vinnie glanced at him again, the frown still half there. Sonny was going to have to be careful unless he wanted to spill his guts before he was sure. Vinnie was smart. He would put it all together pretty quickly, the questions, the gun, the trip, if Sonny added any more fuel to the subject.

So he changed the subject, saying quietly, “I’m shit at skiing, but I like it. How ‘bout you?”

Vinnie chuckled now. “I’m decent.”

Sonny grinned. There wasn’t a lot Vinnie couldn’t do.

*

The house was nestled among tall trees. It was honey-colored wood, two stories, and had big bright windows upstairs and down. Snow snuggled against the sides. The path and driveway had been cleared. The trust allowed for a groundskeeper and a maid, both of whom came once a week. So not only was the yard in good shape, the house was in good repair and clean and ready for any vacationers.

It was stocked with towels, sheets and blankets, wood for the fireplace, dishes and other necessities, but not food. They brought their own in bags and a big cooler. Sonny had permission to stay out of town for two weeks.

“This is great,” Vinnie said, smiling as he got out of the car, boots crunching snow at the side of the drive.

“Yeah. Four bedroom, three bath.”

“When was the last time anyone was here?”

Sonny shrugged. “Dave used it for vacations. I hardly ever came. I think maybe…hmmm…before I met you, a couple or three years ago at least when his family was here. He’d come up to ski several times a year. Me, not that often.”

“So did his wife inherit a percentage?”

Sonny shook his head. “In the trust it was left to me and Dave. We couldn’t will our parts to anyone but each other. If we’re both out of the picture then it falls to whoever the survivor wills it to after that.”

Vinnie nodded. “So it really is all yours.”

“Yep. All mine.”

“You bastard. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me when you got out.”

Sonny shrugged.

“Or for that matter, when we were working together in Atlantic City. How come you never brought me up here then?”

Sonny scowled at him. “We were too busy for vacations, Vinnie. Remember?”

To Sonny’s surprise, Vinnie sort of snorted. Sonny gave him a friendly smack on the shoulder. “Well you’re here now. Let’s check out the inside.”

It took them both three trips to lug everything they’d brought inside. Then they set about exploring.

Vinnie seemed to fall instantly in love with the master bedroom. The wood walls glistened gold. The bed was big, cushioned, fluffy. He sat on it, leaned back. “This is great.”

Sonny watched him, crossing his arms over his chest. “You like my house, then?”

Vinnie rolled his eyes but he was smiling.

They had a dinner of fresh rolls and spaghetti. Sonny cooked the whole meal while Vinnie made a fire in the front room. Vinnie put on a movie. They ate on the couch.

Vinnie said, getting a second helping, “This is sensational. Your cooking is gonna make me fat.”

“Hey, I’m not gonna cook for you all the time so don’t get used to it.”

Vinnie took another big mouthful. “You’d still want me, though, if I got fat…”

Sonny chuckled. “Every which way ‘til Tuesday.”

Ice cream for dessert, another movie, and then Vinnie suggested bed.

Sonny made an excuse that he was going to bank the fire and put away the dishes. After Vinnie disappeared upstairs he checked all the locks on all the doors and windows at least three times, moving back and forth through the bronze-lit front room that sparkled even as the fire was dying. He peered out the front window and watched the dark street for awhile. Nothing.

Finally satisfied, he went upstairs.

Vinnie had just come out of the bathroom, hair still wet. Behind him, the bathroom was misty, the air damp, still smelling of fresh shampoo. “What were you doing down there all this time?” Vinnie asked.

Sonny shrugged and started to take off his clothes.

“Admiring your house, huh?”

“Yep,” Sonny replied, going into the bathroom. The drive had been very long. He felt grubby and tired. A quick, hot shower and then he was in a warm bed with Vinnie, who despite looking hangdog tired from their day grabbed him and began kissing him.

Sonny said, grinning, “You are above and beyond my favorite bedtime snack.”

But as Vinnie leaned in to kiss him again, Sonny could not help but glance over toward the dark bedroom window, noting it was closed and locked. Being distracted from Vinnie like this would never do. He reached out and turned off the lamp.

They made love in the dark.

*

The next day had Sonny admiring Vinnie’s graceful skiing techniques, all the while trying not to embarrass himself by his own in expertise. When Sonny actually did fall face down, cursing, cold wet snow in his face and hair, Vinnie was there immediately to offer a hand.

Even though they often teased each other, Vinnie didn’t laugh now. He didn’t even smile at Sonny’s mishap. He was patient and calm and strangely Sonny was grateful. He hated being bad at stuff, especially anything to do with sports.

Back in Atlantic City they used to play handball outside the casino out back. Vinnie would almost always win. But he never said anything bad about Sonny’s game. Never. Sonny had initially dismissed that as simply Vinnie wanting to get in the boss’s good graces. Everyone was like that. And maybe at first Vinnie was, too. Vinnie was the cop who needed to get close. That was his job. But later he realized Vinnie was actually having too much fun to judge him or his game. He knew now there were times even early on that Vinnie-the-cop had nothing to do with Vinnie-the-guy who had befriended him.

Out on the slopes, Vinnie was like a rock. He never fell. Nothing fazed him.

They remained at the resort for the day, dining out, staying out late.

There was a big band in the ballroom, a loud skier’s party. It was crowded, hot, wild. A full bar offered various delicacies to the crowd.

The distraction from Sonny’s earlier worries--and the reason he’d wanted to take this vacation in the first place--was welcome.

This was Sonny in his element. Drinking. Watching the dancers. Even joining them. He could move. He knew it. This was where he excelled and Vinnie was more awkward and shy.

So leaving Vinnie at the bar, he grabbed a pretty, willing girl and took her out on the floor, glancing once over his shoulder at Vinnie to see his reaction. Vinnie was laughing now, and then put one hand over his eyes as if the sight of Sonny were blinding him.

After the song, the girl said to him in a way that flattered Sonny more than he thought it would, “You here with anyone?”

Sonny motioned with his head toward the tall, dark guy at the bar. “Him.”

She looked wistfully at Sonny, then Vinnie. “Either of you single?”

“Not on your life, sweetheart.” And he took her through another song.

He left her with friends after, and sidled up to Vinnie, reaching out covertly and sliding his hand down Vinnie’s ass.

Vinnie turned, grinning. “Watch it, mister!” And handed him a drink.

He couldn’t convince Vinnie to dance, either with a girl or with him, even though he tried. So he went out by himself, managing to his surprise to snag partners everywhere he turned.

Okay, so maybe he still ‘had it’. Maybe he wasn’t completely distant from the old ‘Sonny’ rep and charisma that a slower life had dampened. He felt a renewed heat inside him. A light. And it was even better after Vinnie told him, half-soused, breath hot against the side of his face, “You look really fantastic out there.”

He didn’t care that he might be showing off. He didn’t care that the girls watched him always saunter back to Vinnie for another drink, another gift of Vinnie’s smile.

But the next time he turned to go back to the bar, Vinnie was gone.

Something inside him twisted like a knife.

The first place he checked was the men’s room. Sure enough, Vinnie was there just finishing up washing his hands.

Sonny masked his sigh of relief.

“Hey,” Vinnie said, “you following me?”

Sonny faked a smile. “I just didn’t know where you went.”

Vinnie frowned. “Like I would up and leave you here by yourself?”

“No…” Sonny turned on the hot water and began washing his own hands.

“Maybe you’ve had enough to drink if you’re getting paranoid.” The words sucked, but Vinnie’s tone was light, sweet.

“Hey, I was just getting started.”

“Good, because I thought you might’ve been weird about that guy that was staring at us earlier…”

“What? What guy?”

Vinnie frowned. “I thought you saw him. You looked right at him. I don’t know. He just looked curious. Maybe he saw you touch my ass.”

Instantly, Sonny’s stomach knotted. “What’d he look like?”

Even though his voice was casual, the cop in Vinnie came into instant play. “Five-eight, maybe 180, dark hair, Caucasian, navy sweater with a little emblem on the side, blue jeans.”

Just then two men came into the room. Vinnie shut up. Sonny turned off the faucet. Together they headed back out.

Sonny said, “He still here?”

Vinnie glanced around. “I don’t see him. But hey, what’s the deal? You were attracting more attention than anyone out there. Who’s not gonna stare at you?”

Sonny grinned at the complement. “Ya think?”

Vinnie’s palm cupped his elbow. “I wanna see more of that. Let’s go have fun.”

Slowly, as the music and crowd got a little wilder, Sonny’s stomach unknotted. He roughed up that dance floor until his body was soaked, his skin was tingling. All the while, Vinnie’s eyes on him were like a caress, a lingering sweetness that heated him up, and damn it made him horny as hell.

He jogged off the floor straight to him, took the drink right out of his hand, set it on the counter and said, “Let’s go home.”

Vinnie’s front teeth tugged at his lower lip. “I don’t go home with just anybody these days.” His eyes sparkled.

“Well you’re comin’ with me ‘cause I got what you want.”

“Really?” Vinnie started to get up from the stool. “By all means elaborate.”

“Oh, I will.”

When they got home, Sonny felt fired up, rambunctious. He’d practically jumped up the front steps. In the living room he spun around on the shiny wood floor, leapt toward the couch as he reached out drumming his fists on the back of it. Now Vinnie was laughing at him. But he didn’t mind. He was fueled, hyped, ready to go.

He grabbed Vinnie by the arms, turning him gracefully, and pulled him up the stairs, then simply started ripping off his clothes.

Vinnie protested once, saying half-heartedly, “Hey that’s my favorite sweater,” then stopped, letting Sonny tear into him. “God dammit,” Sonny said through gritted teeth, pulling Vinnie’s undershirt over his head. “I want you so bad!”

Then he pulled Vinnie’s jeans over his hips and dropped to his knees right in front of the bed. Vinnie was already half-hard and fucking gorgeous. He took him into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Vinnie nearly tripped at Sonny’s touch, pitching forward a little. Sonny steadied him with hands on his hips and gave him his entire mouth until Vinnie couldn’t help but buck. Then he eased off the now fully hard organ with a slip and a slide of his tongue and stood, falling back onto the bed.

“C’mon. I want you so bad you’re making me nuts.” He pulled off his own sweater. Vinnie didn’t need to be told twice. He was instantly kneeling between his legs, undoing Sonny’s pants.

“C’mon,” Sonny encouraged. “C’mon.”

Vinnie pushed him back, kissed him, but Sonny wasn’t interested in kissing right now. “Christ, I want you now. Now.”

Vinnie lifted his head up, laughing. “It’s like making love to fire.”

“I don’t want you to make love to me. Dammit. Fuck me. Now.” He was raging. He was boiling. Vinnie stretching over him was incandescent.

He lifted his legs, reaching between them, stroking Vinnie, pressing him against his body, his opening.

He noted Vinnie reaching to the side for lube. Well, that was just gonna take too damn long. He needed him now. It was required. He pressed up.

Patiently, Vinnie reached down and grabbed his wrist. Then he quickly lubed Sonny up and Sonny leaned back with a sigh and let him drive. Vinnie was inside him quite quickly, and damn he was good, good, good. That was what he wanted. Vinnie and no one else. Not girls on the dance floor. Not wine. Not song. Not stupid skiing lessons. Just Vinnie. In him. In him.

He wanted everything. All of it. He heard himself mumbling, demanding. He had no idea what he was saying, but he couldn’t stop the rush.

And just like Vinnie never to disappoint him, he was completely up to the task. He pounded Sonny, grabbed him, pulled him up. Their moans mingled throughout the room. Sonny wound his legs around him tight as Vinnie brought him upright, impaling him again and again. Then Vinnie fell backwards on the bed and Sonny was on top riding him hard and it was absolute bliss, the best ever.

Vinnie’s head fell back. His arms reached out, hands grabbing air, then went slack at his sides as Sonny rode him, as Sonny covered him, as Sonny leaned down and pressed his lips to Vinnie’s open, waiting mouth.

“Ah god…” Vinnie breathed into the kiss as Sonny felt him moving inside him, in and out, thrusting up as Sonny came down, as Sonny jerked his hips forward and back.

“Jesus!” Vinnie breathed into his mouth.

The ride was exciting, exhilarating. And it just got better as they both tuned into each other’s energy, got into the act more than the race, no hurry to the finish line but just fun, hard, energetic sex.

That’s what it was now and Sonny wanted more. He lifted up and turned on his hands and knees.

Not wanting to be left behind, Vinnie needed no direction. He sat up and got to his knees, parted Sonny’s buttocks exposing him even more, then thrust inside. Usually they had sex facing each other. They loved it best that way. But right now all Sonny wanted was to be fucked every way possible. He wanted it so bad. He wanted it like a starving man, like a drug he’d grown addicted to without fully realizing it.

He flexed his muscles, pushed himself back, and Vinnie answered him with a jolting snap of his own hips, and a hissed single word. “Yes!”

He had the errant thought that if he had trouble walking tomorrow, so be it. He’d lie back on the couch in front of the fire and Vinnie could suck him off all day. That’d be fine. So fine. Because really, he just wanted to do this forever, and on past the end of time.

He’d been so focused on Vinnie’s cock inside him, he’d forgotten about his own until a hot palm encompassed him and he realized he was so stiff and engorged that the first touch sent fire through veins. His balls throbbed.

He drove himself back onto Vinnie hard, thought he heard himself yelling. Then everything went white. Time seemed to stop and he floated on the tide of ecstasy until his body demanded he breathe again, and then he slowly slid down back to reality and pleasure and more pleasure as he pulsed again and again into Vinnie’s hand, the liquid, slick power of himself.

Dimly, he felt the syrupy warmth of Vinnie invading him, bathing him. He swirled his hips, clenched his muscles. Vinnie’s voice was strangled. “Christ. Fuck, oh fuck…”

They collapsed in a oneness of slippery skin against skin, arms, legs entwined. They were both panting as if they’d run a marathon. Vinnie’s hair lay soaked against his forehead.

Sonny breathed out hard against his shoulder, mouthing the damp, salty skin, licking. Then he said, “Now that we’ve properly baptized this house…”

Vinnie groaned, one hand grabbing Sonny’s ass and squeezing hard. “You are…” He stopped, swallowed.

“What?” Sonny said, still trying to catch his breath as sweat dripped down his forehead and onto his cheeks. “Crazy? Nuts? Incorrigible?”

Vinnie pulled him closer, his body sliding wetly against Sonny’s. Voice low, he finished his thought. “Perfect.”

And with that word the rush that was still there in the back of his head, running through every cell of his body even as it was abating, left in its wake a tingling awareness that Vinnie was a part of him now, no longer separate, and that’s the way it would be from now on.

*

When morning light filtered into the bedroom, Sonny woke still feeling hyped. Vinnie was fast asleep, a warm, softly breathing presence huddled neck deep beneath a blanket and a comforter.

Trying not to disturb him, Sonny slid quietly from the bed and went to the far upstairs bathroom to take a shower. He didn’t want to wake Vinnie too soon. It was still early and Vinnie, usually the earlier riser of the two, deserved some rest. Especially after last night…well, after that Sonny was inclined to let Vinnie have his way in anything from now on. No matter what.

The hot shower massaged his skin and it was an amazing pleasure. He was a little sore but not terribly so. That feeling would be gone in a day.

He shaved, brushed his teeth, dressed casually in gray sweats and a black sweatshirt. His boots were soft and fur-lined.

His next idea involved breakfast.

Humming softly, he made his way downstairs.

Out of pure habit over the past few days both in Pennsylvania and here, he went to the front window and looked out beyond the curtains. The air was slightly foggy, but his view was clear. Yesterday’s snow gleamed whitely. Between small drifts, the dirt drive looked black and shiny. The trees were naked, multi-armed silhouettes against a pale gold sky. Toward the front of the yard, thick, fat, evergreen bushes glimmered with caked ice.

Sonny smiled and was about to turn away when something caught his eye. Movement at the far left edge of the yard. A deer maybe?

He squinted. Leaned forward.

No, it was a man. He was dressed in a white skier’s jacket. And he was walking down the side of the yard from the back as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Sonny glanced at the street. No cars. The only car was in the driveway and it was Vinnie’s. The next closest cabin was half a block away.

Okay, so maybe the guy had gone into the woods to walk his dog or something. But there was no dog.

Hiking?

Frowning, Sonny headed for the door. He figured he could at least come out of the house, walk down the drive and let the guy see he saw him. That way, no mystery.

Sonny walked out of the house and down the path. At first the guy took no notice.

Sonny made a little noise, shuffling his feet on the dirt drive, gazing across the snow-packed lawn. At that point the man turned. Their eyes met. A dark, cold unwavering gaze. Beneath the skiier’s jacket the man wore a navy sweater…with a little emblem on the right side. Sonny’s stomach flipped. A friendly neighbor would not have been staring at them last night. A friendly neighbor would not have that look. In his old days back in AC, that hardened edge of guys in his business was all too familiar.

“Hey you…” Sonny started to call out.

At that point the guy took off running, surprising Sonny even more. Without thinking, he took off after him. He felt clumsy in his boots, but he was built for running fast. The air became a sudden cold burn in his lungs as he rounded the drive to the street and picked up his sprint. “Hey, you fuck! What the fuck?”

The other guy was shorter than Sonny, a little less graceful, and heavier. He ran fast but with more plodding effort than graceful speed.

A dark car was parked far down the lane and Sonny realized the guy was heading straight for it. And he said something low as he ran, maybe talking into a radio that Sonny couldn’t see.

Sonny gained on him.

The run was exhilarating, but at the same time Sonny felt a strange kind of panic quiver through his body. Who was this guy? What the fuck was he doing? If he was running from Sonny, then he was up to no good, that was for sure.

Now he was within mere yards of the guy. The car was up ahead, maybe fifty yards away.

Sonny stepped up his pace, lungs like flame in the cold morning air. Then the guy slipped and Sonny had him.

He pounced on top of him and they went down in the still, quiet street wrestling for a minute. “What the fuck are you doing in my yard? What the fuck?” Sonny yelled as they tussled.

The guy was reaching into his jacket now and Sonny knew right then he was armed. Sonny was faster. He kneed the guy hard in the nuts and grabbed at his hand inside the jacket, encountering hard metal. Then he grabbed the gun and hopped up to his feet leveling it at the guy.

The guy had dark hair, a flat nose, hard eyes and pale skin. He was unfamiliar to Sonny. He laughed as he sat back in the street with his own gun pointed at him.

Sonny said, “Who the fuck are you?”

The guy, still grinning in an all too uncomfortable way, said, “You don’t know me. But I know you. Steelgrave.”

Sonny moved forward rapidly, like old times, gun in the guy’s face poking, prodding. He grabbed the guy’s hair, pulling his head forward and held the gun right at his forehead. “Don’t give me that shit! You tell me what the fuck you’re doing or so help me I’ll blow your brains out!”

“Go ahead. Why do you think I didn’t pull the gun when you were chasing me? I didn’t come to kill you. But you killing me… it won’t save your buddy.”

Vinnie. Fear started to coil at the edges of his reality. “Fuck you! What the fuck are you talking about?”

The guy grinned wider. “I’m the distraction.”

“What the fuck?” Sonny felt his breath go in and out. His heart skipped. “What the fuck?”

The guy just laughed as his eyes moved from Sonny’s face to over his shoulder. Sonny turned, yanking the guy by the hair again, and they both stared at the house now a block away.

“You fuck!” And Sonny suddenly saw the plan. He’d left the front unlocked. Anyone could walk in. Anyone… “You fucking asshole!” He raised the gun and slammed it hard in the guy’s face. Then again. The guy went down in the road like the sack of shit he was. Sonny didn’t even look to see the damage. He was already running back toward the house.

Vinnie. Vinnie…

The front door was wide open when he got there. Silently, he entered the house. There was no sound. He kept the gun cocked, moving deftly into the living room. He thought about calling 911. Then from upstairs he heard a loud crash. Taking the stairs two at a time, but careful in case there was a lookout, Sonny rounded the corner of the hall. The bedroom door was open and sounds of a scuffle came from within.

When Sonny got to the doorway, he heard a stranger’s voice. “Say good bye, traitor.”

Sonny came over the threshold, gun up and saw immediately Vinnie, wearing only white shorts, in a heap on the floor. A man had a gun pressed firmly to his temple. Sonny said, “I don’t think so,” and as the guy glanced up in surprise, Sonny pulled the trigger.

The guy fell.

Vinnie sat up. He was bleeding from a cut on his jaw but otherwise looked okay. “Oh Christ!” he breathed. “Oh Christ!” Their eyes met. Vinnie’s were wide with shock, taking in the reality of what had just happened.

Sonny sat heavily on the foot of the bed, his muscles giving way.

Vinnie leaned over the stranger. Felt for a pulse. As he did so, he said, “Oh my god. Sonny. Call 911.”

But Sonny couldn’t move.

“Sonny!” A pause. “Sonny!”

Sonny glanced at Vinnie, who was pressing his hand against the guy’s chest. He could see blood there. He blinked. Then he got up on shaky legs, picked up the gun the guy had dropped and went to the bedside phone.

He set both guns on the nightstand and made the call.

He already felt himself closing off, the strange mist that overcame him sometimes, a hardness in his chest. “There’s been a shooting,” he said into the phone. He gave the address. Then added, “And there’s an unconscious guy in the street.”

He looked away from where Vinnie was working on the dying guy. Now Vinnie had one of their towels pressed to the guy’s chest. And he kept ducking his head, listening to the guy’s breathing.

Sonny looked away. His body felt alien, cold, not his. He thought of sickly, yellow prison light, of ammonia and refried beans and Vinnie saying, “I’m coming every Friday. Get used to it.”

Sonny was still on parole. Sonny killed a guy. With a gun. It was illegal for Sonny to have even touched a gun.

Taking a deep breath, fighting the tightness in his chest, the panic, Sonny picked up the phone again, dialing the number by heart. Into it he said woodenly, “Frank McPike.”

Frank came on the line. “McPike here.”

Sonny didn’t even bother to clarify who was calling. He simply said, “I shot a guy. He had a gun to Vinnie’s head. And I’d do it again. I don’t care. I’d do it again.”

“Whoa, sportshoes. Steelgrave? Is that you? Is this some prank?”

“We’re in the Catskills. Vacation. We were followed. They wanted to kill Vinnie.”

“Jesus. And you shot a guy?

“Yeah. The cops are on the way.”

“Is Vince okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me the goddamn address.”

Frank asked a few more questions but Sonny barely remembered them, or his answers. It didn’t matter. It would take Frank forever to get here. It was a long drive.

And it seemed like forever before the cops showed up as well. But later, Vinnie would tell him, it was less than ten minutes.

Then the place was surrounded by flashing lights, black and white cars, and cops in uniform everywhere, everywhere.

Paramedics took away the guy Sonny had shot. The cops allowed Vinnie to wash his hands and dress. While that was happening, they led Sonny down the stairs and to the front room, told him to sit on the couch and not move.

That was easy enough. But if they asked him how it went down, he knew he would tell the truth. The guy was one second away from executing Vinnie. Sonny had shot with intent to kill. That was that. And if they asked him if he tried to talk the guy down, if he warned him first, his answer would be “no.” In his estimation, to keep Vinnie alive, there had been no time for warnings. But would they believe him?

Maybe he should just get a fucking lawyer and say nothing.

A helicopter sounded overhead. All this drama for two deadbeat guys trying to kill Vinnie? Or maybe it was because of who he was. Sonny Steelgrave. Notorious mobster. Ex-kingpin of the underground of Atlantic City.

Then Frank McPike walked through the front door surrounded by suits, all of them flashing their I.D.s., the ‘uniforms’ parting to let them through.

But he’d gotten here so quickly…

And Sonny realized Frank had commandeered the OCB’s helicopter. For this? For them? For him?

Prickles of heat flooded his eyes.

Frank walked straight up to him.

Sonny said, looking up, voice raw-edged and gravelly, “He had a gun to Vinnie’s head.”

Frank just nodded. Then turned and went upstairs.

The two cops who guarded Sonny continued to glare at him. Sonny ignored them.

He figured the Feds and the investigators were going over the scene first, thorough and efficient. And they were probably questioning Vinnie. When they had the answers they liked, then they would interrogate Sonny.

Sonny folded his hands together in his lap. They were ice cold.

Finally someone came downstairs and calmly took Sonny’s statement. He asked only a few questions about events, mainly about the guy he’d chased down the road. He did not read Sonny his rights.

Sonny said, “Is that all? I killed a guy.”

The detective answered, “Neither of the men are dead. They’re both in custody at the hospital.”

“Then…then I’ll still go back to prison…”

The detective frowned. “This is a major investigation because an attempt was made on the life of a Federal agent. That’s serious, even if he’s an ex-agent. The repercussions for us all…I can’t define how serious it is.”

“But I’m still on parole,” Sonny said coldly.

“Those two at the hospital are the ones under arrest. Not you. Did you think…?” Then the detective gave a small, uncontrolled smile. “No one cares about you anymore, Steelgrave. In truth, the worst I’ve ever heard anyone call you is “Terranova’s dog.” You’re not on anybody’s list anymore. You’re not even low priority.”

Sonny bristled at the strange insult. But foremost on his mind was relief. He wasn’t going back to prison. For the first time in his life he was in the middle of a major drama that was not centered around him. It was truly an odd place to be.

And it might take some getting used to.

After awhile he heard Vinnie and Frank coming down the stairs. “I told you before,” Frank was saying, “wit-sec is the safest route. We’ve discussed this.”

Vinnie protested. “I never thought I’d really need it…”

Sonny frowned. So Frank and Vinnie had discussed this before? And not told him? Vinnie could’ve been in danger from day one and Sonny had barely thought of it until these past few days, had more been thinking of himself.

Vinnie approached the couch, interrupting Frank’s response. “Sonny?” He stood before him. “Are you okay?”

Sonny looked from Vinnie to Frank then back at Vinnie. He let out a breath, inhaled, then nodded. Vinnie had been the one with the gun to his head. Vinnie had almost died. “Fuck,” Sonny said in a whoosh of air. “Are you?”

Vinnie nodded tightly, eyes a little brighter than normal. “Thanks to you.”

“What now?”

Vinnie pressed his lips together in an almost frown.

Frank answered, “You’re packing and then we’re taking you both to a safe house.”

*

The drive back was long. They went with Frank and another agent, stopping once at a diner for food.

For awhile, Vinnie complained that they didn’t need the safe house, that a patrol car in front of his house would be enough.

Sonny glared at him in disbelief but said nothing. All he knew was a guy had a gun to Vinnie’s head and he never wanted to see that happen again for as long as he lived.

Sonny had changed his suspicions over the past four days. Now he decided that the guys after Vinnie were most probably associated with one or more of the guys from his bachelor party. Although most of them were out on bail and many of their cases had fallen apart, there might still be those who were after Vinnie for pure vengeance from that long night that ended in morning arrests.

Even though Vinnie was not a danger to any of them, revenge was a big deal in that arena of his old life.

The guy Sonny had clocked on the head had said they weren’t after Sonny. So Sonny knew they didn’t care about him, or hold him responsible.

But Vinnie… He was a target whether he wanted to believe it or not.

Sonny was grateful when Frank wouldn’t budge. It was the safe house or nothing. No other option.

Vinnie muttered, “I like my house. I don’t want to move.”

Sonny had fallen in love with that house, too; it had become his own little piece of Heaven, but now he rolled his eyes, finally saying, “Yeah, Vinnie, it’s real nice, if you’re topside to enjoy it.”

Vinnie glanced at him looking a little annoyed. They were both in the backseat. It had been a long day.

At the safe house, four agents were assigned to stay with them, switching shifts, two for two, every twelve hours. Mostly, those agents ate all the stocked food and sat on the couch watching TV for the week it took to get them organized with new identities and a place to go.

In the master bedroom, that first night after the shooting, Sonny lay in bed and watched Vinnie pace back and forth for awhile saying nothing.

Finally, Vinnie got in the bed and turned out the light, but he didn’t lie down. He remained sitting up. Sonny stared at the lump of shadow his form made in the darkness.

Finally, Vinnie spoke. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Sonny gave no more than a soft grunt. He felt Vinnie turn a little in the bed.

“So what made you go out and chase some guy down the street in the first place?”

“He was in my yard,” Sonny replied, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah, but did he do something?”

“He was trespassing.”

“Yeah, but…”

“He had the navy sweater…the emblem.”

“That guy?”

“Yeah, but Vinnie, I already had a feeling we were being followed. Why do you think I asked you to get your gun for this trip?”

“What?”

“I have instincts. I don’t like surprises.”

“You thought…? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sonny let out a puff of air in disgust. “As if you’d believe me? After everything? I don’t deny I might be missing a few cogs in my brain. So I’m not the most reliable of witnesses.”

Vinnie was silent for a moment. Then he asked, “How long have you suspected?”

“Four days.”

“Four days? What happened four days ago?”

“A car I didn’t like drove by our house real slow late one night, all the windows blacked. I knew then. But what am I gonna say to you? ‘Uh, hey, Vinnie, a car I didn’t like drove by.’ You’d a laughed in my face.”

More silence.

“Yeah, see?” Sonny added. “You can’t deny it.”

“That’s why you wanted to leave.”

“Well, yeah.”

Sonny lay very still just listening to Vinnie breathe. That in itself was miraculous. This morning, he’d been seconds from death.

Finally Vinnie spoke. In the dimness his voice was low, thoughtful. “Sonny, I want you to feel like you can tell me anything. Anything. Okay?”

Sonny sighed loudly.

“I mean it. I know we tease each other and that’s all fine. It’s good. But if it’s something you really feel strongly about and you think I won’t hear you, then make me listen. Tell me to listen. Tell me you’re serious. Tell me it’s important. I’ve never not trusted you, Sonny.”

“Fine,” Sonny said, almost sarcastically. “So you won’t keep secrets like you and Frank having already discussed wit-sec without me knowing about it?”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Vinnie defended.

“No?”

“No, I honestly didn’t think I needed it. Everything seemed fine. The subject never came up with you. Truly, Sonny, if the topic came up and you were in the room, we wouldn’t have waited for you to leave.”

“Yeah, well.” He cleared his throat staring up at the dark ceiling. “I just don’t know how I’d say it, like I know I’m paranoid but I don’t feel safe. How’s that gonna sound?”

“I don’t care how it sounds,” Vinnie said. “You just say it.”

“You don’t know how stubborn you really are, do you? Frank would’ve believed me before you would’ve.”

He heard Vinnie swallow. The covers rustled but he still stayed sitting. Then Vinnie said, “I’m sorry.”

Sonny closed his eyes, concentrated on his own breathing now. Vinnie was sorry. Sorry for what? Almost getting killed? It wasn’t his fault. If it was anyone’s fault, it was Sonny’s for not taking more precautions. For that matter, it was his fault, period, for being who he was now and who he used to be.

He lay very still, hands at his sides curled into loose fists. He wore nothing, as was often his preference for sleeping. The covers felt warm and firm against his naked skin. In this moment he felt safe, secure. This moment was everything, because this moment had come so very close this morning to never, ever happening.

He wet his lips, said, “You gonna be able to sleep?” In the dark he could see Vinnie had his knees up and was leaning on them.

“Are you?”

He made a noise through his nose, almost a laugh. “You almost died.”

“I know.”

“It might take me awhile to…calm down.”

Vinnie replied with a small, unsteady laugh of his own.

He moved onto his side. “Vinnie…take off your goddamn shirt and your shorts and just…come here.”

“There’s two guys right in the next room…”

“It not that,” Sonny said. Then, voice barely above a whisper, “I just want to feel you.”

He heard the covers rustle for a few seconds. Then Vinnie was beside him, pressing his warm, smooth body into his shoulder, chest, stomach, legs, and his arm went around his waist. Sonny lifted his own arm and stroked slowly down Vinnie’s back.

He pushed his face into the side of Vinnie’s neck just below his ear, breathing in, smelling his clean, fresh scent, feeling the warm thrum of the pulse just beneath the skin.

Vinnie was alive. That was all that mattered.

Vinnie curled closer, pressing his forehead to Sonny’s chest.

Skin to skin, no barriers, Sonny tightened his hold as if never to let go.

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work by Natasha Solten, you may also enjoy her m/m romances on Kindle under her non-fanfic name: Wendy Rathbone. Look for "The Foundling," "The Secret Sharer" and the soon to be released "None Can Hold the Dark" (due in fall 2013.) She also has an sf novel out, and a collection of poetry.


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